


Plan: Fail

by Rinkafic



Series: Telpa 'verse [10]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: BDSM, Dubious Consent, M/M, slave!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 08:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinkafic/pseuds/Rinkafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is not a happy story.</p><p>This combines the stories: A Desperate Plan & No Bir for You!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plan: Fail

Things were not going at all according to plan.  In fact, this was quite likely the worst plan he had ever come up with in his life.     
   
“ _Jaa!_ ” As the whip slashed down across his back and the command he had misunderstood, again, was repeated, again, he went to his knees and cursed himself for being a fool.  The man had been introduced as the Trainer for this Bardero he had been purchased to serve.   
   
 _“Sis!”_    
   
Damn, what was _Sis_ again?  Was that the command to stand up or was that the one that meant he was supposed to go down on his face?  He started to stand up and the lash landed again.  Fuck!  His back was going to be a mass of cuts by the time this training session was over!  He flopped forward onto his crossed arms.  
   
“Arms out!  Proper form!”  His forearm was kicked, hard.  This was such a bad idea.  He had learned nothing since agreeing to do this, since agreeing to sacrifice himself to get inside the Bardero.  He was proving incapable of learning the simplest commands, it seemed.  It was humbling, and humiliating.  They’d taken his clothes.  He was naked in the center of a cellar room, with this stranger, this Trainer.  
   
“It seems DranWrin bought us another stupid telpa.  It is a damned good thing you’ve a pretty face, telpa, or you would be very, very sorry.”  
   
He groaned.  That was the other thing.  He thought he’d been signing on as a field hand, only to find he was now a sexual slave.  He’d thought maybe he could find out some information before he had to actually perform the duties he’d been bought to do, but they had put him right into the hands of this cruel man with a whip, a free hand, and no patience.  
   
He wondered if the others were having more luck?   
  

~*~

  
_“Gan!  Jaa!”_  
   
Wonderful.  This was just wonderful.  Things were going from bad to worse.  Not only was he a sex slave, he was a sex slave for the son of the house, a pampered, spoiled, arrogant and nasty man.   
   
He’d spent three days in training with the man in the cellar.  Then he had been sent above stairs.  
   
He dropped his pants and knelt.  He expected the guy to demand a blowjob.  He didn’t expect him to walk around behind him and shove at his shoulder.  _“Sis!”_   He bent forward, stretching his arms out.   
   
The man, Wrin Mac’Kay, knelt behind him.  Without warning or preparation, he felt the Wrin’s cock at his ass.  Biting his lip, as he’d been warned what the penalties for refusal were, and they were far more unpleasant than a bit of rough buggering, he grunted slightly as he was breached.   
   
The Wrin said nothing; his hand was pressed to the small of the telpa’s back as he shoved and pushed until he made it in.  It took a bit of time without any preparation, but eventually he was able to thrust in and out.   
   
It hurt.  It hurt a lot.  He couldn’t help the small cry that escaped.  That displeased the Wrin.  A punch landed on the telpa’s hip, followed by a hard slap to the back of his head.  No words, just the physical reminder that silence was expected during service.  
   
The Wrin could make all the noise he wanted, and he came with a hoarse grunt.  He yanked out and came around to demand, _“Jaa!”_  
   
Kneel?  Was the Wrin serious?  He was split open here, probably bleeding, the Wrin wasn’t a small man.  He slowly pushed up onto his palms and knelt upright, weaving in place as the pain shot through him.  
   
 _“Cre!”_  
   
He blinked and stared at the cock handing limply in front of him, and yes, there was blood.  Shuddering, he reached up and stroked the Wrin’s cock, trying to wipe the mess off before putting his mouth there, as expected.   
   
Blinking away tears, which were from pain, not for any other reason.  Not because of what had just happened.  He closed his eyes and tried to shut out what he was doing, tried so very hard not to think about what had been done to him and what he was doing.   
   
He wondered if John was even still alive.  It had been three years.  What the fuck had he been thinking, doing this?  Mitchell cursed himself for a fool again.

~*~

“Drink this,” Wrin Mac’Kay held out a cup.   
   
Knowing better than to hesitate, Mitchell took the cup and tossed back the contents, somehow he managed to not spit it back up.   
   
 _Gan_ , as a command, had fallen out of use in the cycles since Mitchell had come to Bardero Mac’Kay.  The Wrin didn’t allow him clothes most of the time when he was above stairs.  He’d grown used to the chill.  
   
 _“Ame!”_   Now that one, he was used to.  He didn’t even need to be told where.  He padded over to the Wrin’s chair and bent over the back, bracing his hands on the arms.  Luckily, the Wrin didn’t want to look at Mitchell’s face any more than Cam wanted to look at his cruel owner’s.   
   
Another small mercy was the lack of stamina on the part of the Wrin.  He was usually fairly quick about taking his pleasure, though he did it at least once a day.  The rest of the time, Mitchell worked in the scullery.  He was keeping his ear to the ground, but the telpa here didn’t gossip much, and those who did didn’t say much about other Barderos.  John had been sold here, in this area, according to the records Corrigan had been able to find.  But no one he asked had heard the name John Sheppard.  
   
Mac’Kay shoved at him, gripping Cam’s hips in a tight hold.  This was different.  For the first time since coming here, he was growing hard as the Wrin took him.  Crap, the drink, it was the effect of the drink.  
   
As Mac’Kay fucked him, he got harder and harder, painfully hard, in fact.  He reached a hand around, trying to get at his cock to relieve himself.   
   
Mac’Kay grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his back, almost to the breaking point. He grunted and said between thrusts, “You. Will. Not. _Bir_.”   
   
He couldn’t touch himself?  What kind of game was this?  Mac’Kay sighed happily as he pulled almost completely out and then shoved deep into Mitchell’s ass in one swift move.  He kept his grip around Mitchell’s wrist, tightening it.  
   
“Wrin, it hurts.  Please.”  Mitchell begged as the fucking went on longer than usual and his cock throbbed under him where it pressed tightly to the back of the chair, gaining no friction, no relief from the joining.  
   
“I. Said. No!”  He used his free hand to slap Mitchell’s head and back.  He’d been waiting for this, for Mitchell to beg for something, just so he could beat him.  The other telpa in the house had whispered about the Wrin’s pleasures, how he liked inflicting pain.  
   
Eventually, Wrin Mac’Kay spurted his load and yanked out of Cam’s body, shoving him to the floor.  He pointed at Cam, and sneered, “You will not _Bir._ ”  
   
He turned away, leaving the room, going to the other chamber.  Cam pressed the palm of his hand at his aching cock.  His own touch burned and caused him pain.  He whimpered.  Masturbating wouldn’t help this, it would make it worse.   
   
The Wrin came back with wrist cuffs and ankle cuffs.  _“Ech!”_ He pointed and then grabbed at Cam’s hands when he held them up, cuffing him and dragging his hands around behind him, locking them in place.   _“Ech!”_ One by one, Mitchell lifted his feet, which were cuffed and locked together with a clasp.  The Wrin dropped his feet and walked over to sit in the chair, turning it so that he could see Cam where he was curled on his side on  the floor.  
   
“If you make a sound, I will strap you,” Mac’Kay snapped as he settled into the chair.  In an uncharacteristic sharing of information, The Wrin told him, “You are a test, to see how long the elixir lasts.”  Then he smiled, and Mitchell knew the sharing had been another form of torture.  “It should last hours.”  
   
After a while, Cam was almost mindless with the pain and burning.  He needed to come, but the elixir was preventing that, even when he chanced humping the floor when the Wrin dozed.  The resultant pain nearly made him scream.  He writhed, and the motion drew the Wrin’s attention.   
   
The Wrin was enjoying this, he was hard again.  He watched Mitchell squirming for a long while, stroking himself, pleasuring himself in the way he had denied Cam.  Eventually The Wrin stood and walked over to the telpa, hauling him around by the wrist cuffs and arranging him in a position convenient to him.  This time, when he fucked Cam, he reached around and clasped his cock.  It was too much, Mitchell screamed at the touch.   
   
And Mac’Kay laughed.  The telpa’s pain was what he wanted, what he needed.  He squeezed Mitchell’s cock viciously, and finally, mercifully, it was over.   
   
Cam passed out.   
   



End file.
